


A Very Merry Werewolfy Christmas

by lalauhale (amyraudenfelds)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Holidays, Inspired by A Christmas Carol, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-05 20:46:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1098423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amyraudenfelds/pseuds/lalauhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek Hale is home for Christmas. And by home he means New York City. Despite Cora's pleads, he doesn't want to go back to Beacon Hills to spend Christmas with the pack - especially Stiles (who he's been avoiding every call). But tonight, Derek will receive four visits of people that will show him why he's wrong in doing so. Changing not only Derek's Christmas, but also his take on his life and his relationship with Stiles Stilinski.</p><p>Or, the one where Derek is the most adorable Ebenezer Scrooge you've already seen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very Merry Werewolfy Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: not my characters  
> (if it were, Laura Hale would still be alive)
> 
> (also, in this fic Derek's bday isn't on Christmas so there's that)

                Cora entered the room and found Derek – if she had to pick a word it would be “planking” – on the sofa. He had been like this since they got back to New York. He was much more chatty – if Derek could be such a thing, but at least he was trying. Both of them didn’t actually like to talk too much, communication in their apartment was mostly through murmurs or nods and it was fine because Cora was almost a mirror of Derek. She could be extremely talkative when she wanted to, just as Derek, the thing is they didn’t want to talk to anyone that often.

They had been living in Derek and Laura’s old apartment since they fled from Beacon Hills. She knew how Derek felt and why it was important to leave Beacon, but she missed there. In a way, Scott and his pack were the only friends she made in a long time. Apparently, Derek’s too. Stiles usually called every other week, but Derek avoided every single call. Eventually, Stiles understood what was going on and gave up of talking to Derek, instead, he only called Cora and kept her updated at the last happenings in Beacon.

It was kind of pathetic, really. She knew Stiles wanted to talk to Derek, and that her stubborn brother was dying to hear Stiles babbling, and yet, none of them took it to themselves. So Cora stood in the middle, passing along messages and asking things that she wouldn’t ask unless if Derek requested it.

Anyway, Stiles called her up and told her they were going to have a little get together on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day at Scott’s house. With presences of everyone in the pack, the Sheriff, Melissa and even (in a very suspicious apparition) Chris Argent. Stiles told her to bring her own Grinch, which meant she should bring Derek as well, she told him she would. Cora talked to Derek, Derek refused with every single denial word he had in his little werewolf dictionary until she was pissed and gave up. She didn’t want to leave her brother alone in the first Christmas they could spend together after so much time, but Derek vehemently denied that and bought her plane tickets to go to Beacon Hills. “I’m no fun on Christmas. Never was.” He told her, and from what she remembered it was about right. Hesitantly, Cora accepted to go.

The plane was leaving in a couple of hours and she was checking to see if she had forgotten to put anything in her luggage. She huffed at the vision of Derek, and while she put on a scarf (December and New York – beautiful in décor, not such a lovely thermic sensation), she poked him on his back.

                “Derek?” She called out

                She got a grumble for an answer.

                “Are you sure you don’t wanna come?”

                Another grumble.

                “Fine. Suit yourself. I have to go now.”

                He sat up, and his face was full of red marks from the time he spent lying down. He nodded and got up and gave Cora a quick hug.

                “Okay. Be careful. Call me when you-“

                “Get there. I know, don’t worry. I’ll call you tomorrow and I’ll be back on the twenty-seventh.”

                “I know, I bought the tickets, remember?”

                She smiled and hugged him back. She lugged her bag towards the door “Don’t be a total drag, have fun. Go to the Rockefeller center and ice skate, or something. Don’t pretend like you never wanted to be an ice skater.”

                She got a sulky expression for an answer and she was pleased by it, then, she closed the door behind her.

                Derek exhaled loudly. He had more than 72 hours to deal with himself. He read a little, moped a little, fixed some of the lights in the Christmas tree Cora had him put together. Finally, he decided to go out for a stroll.

                Derek strolled for about an hour in 5th avenue, watching the stores expensively decorated for Christmas and people inside them going ape shit buying last minute gifts. He stopped in front of the huge FAO Schwarz looking inside. He used to come here before with Laura, sometimes without her. He just liked to see the toys inside, the big Zoltar booth, sometimes he even went upstairs to see people playing in the big piano ground just like in that Tom Hanks movie.

                He hesitated and entered the store. He browsed around for a little, which was not a good idea because people don’t really like when you’re walking aimlessly in a store and keeping them from moving faster, until he saw a miniature baby blue toy jeep. Derek mindlessly grinned for a while, and decided to buy it. Just for you know… It’s a nice toy.

                He asked the cashier to wrap it as a gift and exited the store. The wind was cruel and cold, cutting his cheeks and making them flustered, even under the usual scruff. While he was going home, Cora called to tell him she had arrived and that the guys were somewhat disappointed, but not exactly surprised about him not showing up. Derek chuckled and told her to be careful.

                He stopped by at a Starbucks and bought himself a peppermint mocha. Finally, he was back at the apartment, shaking off the very inconvenient snow on his coat. _Let it snow my ass_ , he thought. Derek enjoyed the hot coffee resting on the sofa and he finished reading his book. Now this was fun. Nicely done, Derek. Great way to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas.

                He felt his eyelids heavy and looked at the time in clock. It was minutes past 7 p.m. and he was already so sleepy. He thought that that was what getting old felt like.

                He knew he was just filing his head with useless thoughts to keep him from thinking about more important things. Like, for instance, the miniature baby blue jeep on the sideboard. He decided to take a bath, eat something and watch some TV. God knows Derek liked cheesy and incredibly cliché movies of the season.

                He got out of the hot bath feeling relaxed. Put on some sweat pants and an old Henley shirt, grabbed a comforter and plopped himself back on the couch. He turned on the TV and what do you know, It’s a Wonderful Life was on.

                It was just a little before eight o’clock when Derek’s head slowly rested on the couch’s arm and he felt himself falling asleep.

\---

                Derek woke up alarmed, not exactly knowing why, but he thought he caught a scent. Not a dangerous one, just… Familiar. He rubbed his weary eyes and shoved his hand on his sweatpants’ pocket and took his phone out. He looked at the time. It was half past one in the morning. He sat up and stretched his back, and twitched his neck muscles a little because he felt stiff. Derek got up and took the comforter, he was going to lie down in his bed because if he was being honest he wanted to spend the whole time in it. That’s when he turned around to turn the TV off and was caught off guard by someone staring back at him. He dropped the comforter down in confusion until he realized he was looking at his mother.

                “Hi, Derek.” Talia smiled at him.

                “M-Mom?” His voice was shaken, he gulped and rubbed his eyes again, expecting her to go away.

                “This isn’t a dream, you know. I’m here.” His mother said with her steady voice, and she sat down on the lounge chair, as elegant as Derek could remember.

                Derek stared at her in confusion. He commanded his muscles to move and rescued his cup of peppermint coffee from the coffee table. There were only droplets inside, and Derek sniffed the cup all around.

                “What are you doing?” Talia asked, perking one inquiring eyebrow and in a playful tone.

                “Checking.”

                “Checking what, exactly?”

                “If anyone has drugged me.”

                Talia snorted.

                “I’m serious. I might be hallucinating. I might be dying.” He said with an actual tint of worrying in his voice.

                “You’re not dying.”

                “How can you be so sure?”

                “I think I’d know.”

                Derek looked at his mother with guilt. Yes, she’d know, she was dead. Thanks to Kate Argent, or – in a poor choice of words – Derek’s old flame.

                “I’m sorry.”

                “It wasn’t your fault.” She said with a smile. It was a simple sentence, and he knew she was telling the truth. He knew she meant it. It didn’t matter what Derek thought, his mother wouldn’t let him guilt trip himself. It was just like her. Even when Derek was a kid he used to blame himself for accidents or things that had gone wrong even if he had no parcel of actual blame on it.

                He sat back and just looked at his mom. It had been a long time since he saw her, and she had a kind of… Light. All over her. She looked nice. She looked peaceful. Something that she never got while she lived. Always counseling the other alphas, or calming down any animosities that happened. Talia was overwhelmed, but she handled it. They were Hales. They always handled it.

                “What are you doing, Derek?” She asked again and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, and Derek felt like he was a four year-old all over again.

                “About what?”

                “You know what I’m talking about.” He did. Derek was pack, but he was his mother’s son. They had an unspoken dialogue between them always. Before Talia even opened her mouth to speak, Derek knew (most of the times, anyway) what she was about to say. Whenever making a decision, or reprimanding him and his sisters. “You are here all alone. Why didn’t you go with Cora?”

                “I…” Derek looked up with sincere eyes and sighed “I don’t know. I’m scared of going back, I guess. It seems that when I go back I lose more things than I win.” Derek gestured to the room “And I don’t have that much more to lose, I mean.”

                “You still have friends. Your sister. These are things that you won, in my opinion. The friends you made in Beacon Hills? That’s entirely your fault.”

                “Friends? A teenager I bit in order to become the worst alpha this family has ever seen, a pointdexter who hates me to my guts and brought back Peter, who, by the way, is completely psychotic, and that brings us to our next contender: Scott. An innocent kid who was given the bite, and he is nice to everyone, so that doesn’t count, it’s just his natural self, an Argent - of all people. And a babbling insecure kid who is such a pain in the ass. He talks back, he is extremely negative towards me, he’s just so… Frustrating.” Derek knew how much he was whining, but he didn’t exactly want to stop, because he hadn’t been able to do this in so long.

                “Wow. You had a lot to say about that, huh?” Talia grinned.

                “No. I’m pretty much done.”

                “I can see that.” She smirked. “Anyway, Derek, I’m here to ask you one thing. Please, will you think about spending Christmas with your friends? No one should be alone on Christmas.”

                “Well, I’m not exactly the kind of seasons person, so…”

                “Right. You might wanna rethink that. You should enjoy while you still have company to spend the holidays with.”

                Derek looked up, confused. “What does that mean?”

                “If you keep pushing people away you’ll end up unhappy.”

                “I _am_ unhappy already. It’s not that big of a deal.” Derek shrugged.

                “There’s still hope, Derek.” Talia said with a sad tone.

                “Not for me.” Derek answered in all sincerity.

                “Very well, then.” She got up and pointed a finger at his direction, “Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

                “About what?!”

                “You’ll see.” She hugged him and it was a different sensation, Derek could feel she was there but not an actual physical presence, like an aura, of sorts. She gazed at him and tapped him lightly on the shoulders, “Just do yourself a favor and fight for the light while it’s still there.”

                “I… Okay.” Derek nodded.

                “I have to go now.” She said and stopped hugging Derek. She gave him a reassuring smile, “Oh. And merry Christmas, Derek.”

                “Thanks, mom. To you too.” He said because he couldn’t figure out anything else to say.

                She started fading away and suddenly Derek was all alone in the room.

                “Okay,” He breathed out and ran up to the bathroom sink to splash some water in his face. “Am I hallucinating? Or am I drugged?” He asked his reflection in the mirror, and boy, he looked terrible. His eyes had pale purple circles under them, and his scruff was getting out of control. He felt so alone, and while he didn’t want to admit it, it would be nice to stop being so grim all the time, but it was inherently of him since the fire happened. And now he just couldn’t fix it. So alone and unhappy it is.

                “You look like you got in a fight with a monster truck and came out on the losing side.” A female voice came from behind him, and Derek looked at its direction in the mirror. He inhaled a gasp and in the process of lifting his hand to cover his mouth he dropped a few hygiene products off the cupboard.

                “Oh my-“ He turned around and faced the slim and careless figure leaning on the corner of the bathroom. “Laura?”

                In response came a lazy and large smile. “Me.”

                “What the fuck?” His voice came out high-pitched.       

                “Language, baby bro. There’s no need to lose our composure here.” Laura was leaning on the tile wall and she wore a black leather jacket with a red tank top underneath it, she had jeans and combat boots on as well. She was propping her foot against the wall and had her arms crossed in front of her chest. Laura examined her nails while Derek looked at her with wide-eyes. “Don’t be so surprised or your chin’s gonna end up falling off.”

                At this remark, he shut his mouth with a loud snap. “What are you doing here?”

                “Isn’t this obvious?” She walked up to him and he gave a little step back just for reflexes’ sake. “I’m here to save your Christmas, because you are grinching out too bad, even for Grinch. And he almost stole everyone’s Christmas, I might add.”

                Derek ignored Laura and got out of the bathroom and marched to the kitchen. His shaky hands produced a coffee machine from under the cupboard and some coffee powder.

                “What are you doing?” Laura asked, amused. She was sitting on the other side of the cupboard, watching him while he wrestled with the machine.

                “Making coffee. Black. Like my soul.” Derek grumbled. He had given up discussing with his hallucinations.

                Laura snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

                “It’s hard not to be when there’s a ghost sitting on the cupboard.” Derek shrugged.

                “Well, I’d rather be alive. But you can’t always get what you want, little brother.” Laura said and lowered herself from the cupboard. Apparently she got tired of watching Derek operating the coffee machine and pressed a little button, and instantly, the machine started making coffee. “Every single time. Don’t you ever learn?”

                “I’m sorry that you died.” Derek told her with a small voice and gazed at her.

                “Hey, not your fault, Derek.” She smiled at him. “It’s fine. Peter’s the asshole, right? Anyway, let’s just let the bygones be bygones. Tonight’s about you.”

                “Why do you say that?” Derek asked while a translucent hand put the cup of steaming coffee on his hands.

                “Really, Derek? You’re the biggest bookworm I know and you still ask?” She cocked her head and Derek looked at her completely oblivious while he sipped the coffee. “I’m your ghost of Christmas past, man.”

                Derek barked out a dry laugh. “Okay, so now I’m living a bad version of Charles Dickens? With additional werewolf drama?”

                “Don’t shoot the messenger.” Laura replied.

                “Okay. So if you’re Ghost of Christmas Past, are you going to take me to all my previous Christmas?”

                “It is the plan, yes. But I’m not exactly only a ‘Christmas’ ghost. I’m about little important things that happened to you that you choose to ignore.”

                “Okay. Can we ignore the N*SYNC phase I went through, then?” He asked.

                “No, I’m afraid that was the peak of your life. Your golden days. Why are you not taking this serious?”

                “Because I know I’ll wake up in a few hours.”

                “I find your lack of faith disturbing.” Laura sighed, “Very well, then. Let’s begin.”

\---

                Derek’s apartment disappeared to reveal a room full of people. He recognized this. He would recognize it in any period of time Laura might take him through. It was the Hale house. And everything was still in order and they were still happy. But the place was different. The clothes, the decoration: everything seemed a little older. And the people also. These weren’t Derek’s relatives, but there was a dark haired twenty year old who looked just like Derek, and Laura, and a little like Cora.

                “James, would you help me out here for a second?” Another voice called from the room, and Derek mirrored the movements of the guy in front of him, and looked at the emissary of the voice. Derek recognized the man. He was Derek’s grandfather, only much younger. “There is a group of kids outside looking for some thrills. Would you be so kind to help me with that?”

                “Sure, dad.” Of course. It was Derek’s father. James Whitaker. His mother was right when she said they all looked like him. He was strong and slim bodied, just like Laura. He had the lips and the nose just like Cora’s, and Derek inherited the eyes and the eyebrows, apparently.

                James walked out on the porch and Derek and Laura, who was so quiet Derek actually forgot she was there, followed. She gestured him to the door and they stepped out as well. They were on the Hale (or should he say Whitaker?) porch, looking out at the front “yard” – that was a very large piece of land – just like they did so many times. Four kids walked outside, and they seemed to be having fun, they also looked quite intoxicated. By the looks of the inside of the Hale house (now Whitaker house, Derek assumed), it was Christmas time. The teenagers also had silly sweaters on, and the two guys were kicking mud here and there while the girls giggled and told them to stop.

                James sighed. “Hey!” He called out, and started to walk towards them. Derek and Laura came along. “Hey. You kids!” Derek found that amusing because his father was too a kid, he was apparently in his early twenties, but he behaved like he was a forty year old man. Their mother always said he always acted like that, she said it was hard to believe he wasn’t born a forty year-old baby. The teenagers stopped kicking the mud around and looked quite embarrassed. It reminded Derek of when he first saw Scott and Stiles in the preserve. “This is private property.” His father thundered, “What do you think you are doing?”

                “I’m – We’re sorry, man. We are just having fun, you know.” A tall and tanned guy answered in an apologetic voice.

                “Yeah, because trespassing is such a nice way to have fun, right?” James replied dryly.

                “Hey, Mr. Whitaker,” Another teenager, a blonde guy, started insecurely “There’s no need to worry, I’m a police officer.”

                “Do you have a badge?” James perked an eyebrow.

                “Dad is such a pain in the neck.” Laura commented and Derek shushed her. “Hey, don’t sush me.” She said and hit him lightly on the arm, but stopped talking anyway.

                “Well, you know, I still didn’t finish the academy…”

                “Do you have a warrant?”

                “Not exactly, no…”

                “So you’re telling me there’s no other reason for your being here other than being busybodies?”

                “Not really, sir.” The blonde guy replied.

                “With all due respect, fella, we’ll be out of your hair in a second.” A redheaded girl spoke, she looked like she was the least worried of them all. The other girl, a tanned brunette seemed to be really uncomfortable to be there. “We’re just here because we got curious.”

                “About what?” James inquired with a ferocious look on his face.

                “You know, town talk.” The redhead continued, “They say there have been some animal attacks here, in this part of town, so-“

                “So you thought coming here and checking it out would be the best idea? I’ll tell you what, if you don’t get out of my property in the next five minutes I’ll leave you to your own damn luck. And I’ll hope the animal gets what it wants.”

                “That was harsh.” Laura commented and Derek agreed with a nod.

                “So- Sorry, Mr. Whitaker. That won’t happen again.” The blonde guy answered. He was visibly ashamed and they started backing out from the woods.

                Once they were out of sight, James sighed and walked back in the house, slamming the door shut.

                “What did they want?” Derek’s grandfather inquired.

                “The town’s been talking about ‘animals’. They know something’s off. The kids were looking for said animal that seemed to be here.”

                Derek’s grandfather scratched his beard and gave James a slow nod. “You should talk to the Hales. Let them know.”

                “Why does it have to be me?” James complained.

                “Well, because you’re my son, for starters. The only one who I trust to do this job. And,” Derek’s grandfather made a pause, “if we don’t talk to them first, the Argents might. And we both know that with the Argents there’s no such thing as cordiality. That Gerard man is ruthless. I’ve seen him kill werewolves before. Not the nicest thing to see, trust me. And I know you like the Hale girl. Don’t act like you don’t.”

                “Fine.” James exhaled loudly (and in that moment he was a perfect mirror of Derek), “I’ll go.”

                The scene shifted, and they weren’t in the Hale house anymore. They were somewhere north of Beacon Hills. The landscape made that clear. It was dry and dusty. They were somewhere in the desert. Laura and Derek were outside of a cottage and they watched as a truck pulled over. From inside the vehicle, James opened the door and got out of it. They followed as their father knocked on the cottage door and waited while somebody would answer it.

                A beautiful, tall and tan skinned girl got the door. She had black straight hair and kind eyes when they looked at James. Her mouth opened up in a large smile, and she jumped to hug and kiss James. He stroked her arm with one of his hands and they parted. The girl’s eyes suddenly became darker, aware that he wasn’t there to spend time with her.

                “What’s wrong?” She asked in a very familiar voice to both of them.

                “I need to talk to you. All of your pack, Talia.” James retorted with a grim look.

                “Sure. Come on in.” She held his hand and led him into the cottage, where Derek and Laura followed. Their mother wasn’t all that different. She was younger, of course. But the undeniable sense of leadership and quietness was there. It was the personality of someone who was trained since a very young age to be an alpha. Derek could see, or saw, the same thing about Laura. The only difference is that Laura was forcedly turned into an alpha before she was ready. But still, Laura and Talia had so much in common.

                Inside, the living room was crowded with people. Tanned, tall people, just like Talia. They looked alike. There was something wild about them, like they were about to shift right there and then. Without a word of warning. Derek could observe that that wasn’t the friendliest pack of all time, but maybe that’s why it was so big. There must have been at least ten werewolves in that room, and other humans. The pack should amount up to twenty people. At least ten werewolves. Which meant their alpha was so incredibly powerful and respected, otherwise there was no condition to keep the pack such a huge unit as this one.

                Talia led James up to what seemed to be her mother. They had never met her, they had only seen the pictures Talia showed them and their father used to tell them she was the most fearsome creature he ever encountered. Derek had a gut feeling he was about to know why. They sat down away from where Derek and Laura were. What made them cross the room full of babbling people in order to listen what they were talking about.

                “James,” Their mother said with incredibly tenderness while their father awkwardly strutted by her side, she pointed to a woman that Derek could only describe as ‘ferocious’. “this is my mother. Eva.”

                Eva, their grandmother, grinned at their father and Derek could have sworn her teeth were fangs. James held out his hand, that was shaking, and Eva took it but didn’t shake it. Instead, she turned his palm up and with her other hand, using a werewolf claw, she drew a large red line. A cut. Not deep. James didn’t seem taken aback by it, so Derek considered it to be a standard procedure. Even though he never saw his mother greet anyone like this.

                Eva led the blood stained claw up to the front of her nose and took a deep breath.

                “ _What_ is she doing?” Derek asked, whispering for no reason.

                “She’s catching his scent in order to know what his real intentions are.” Laura answered.

                “I never saw mom doing this.”

                “Me neither. She said only certain alphas could do it. Alphas that are too long in that position. It’s not easy to know someone’s character by the smell of its blood, but it’s possible. Mom said that when grandma smelled something ‘wicked’ the blood usually smelled rotten.”

                “Could you do that?”

                “Don’t know.” Laura shrugged. “Never tried.”

                “You smell like fear,” Eva thundered. “but also like peace. What brings you here?”

                “People are- the townies are suspicious. About the animal attacks.” James started with a little bit more confidence.

                “I told you we have nothing to do with the animal attacks. We do not attack humans.”

                “I understand, Eva. But the Argents, the other hunter family that lives in Beacon Hills, aren’t interested in truce. They won’t even ask or believe if it was or wasn’t this pack’s fault.”

                “So what are you doing here?”

                “I came to warn you.” James gulped. “If your pack doesn’t leave, I’m afraid they’ll slaughter you.” He looked at Talia with sad eyes, and she gave him an infinitesimal nod. “That’s why you must leave. All of you.”

                Eva laughed, and both James and Talia looked at each other, confused. “Child, I am Eva Hale. Alpha of the Hale pack. We are many. Our pack amounts to thirty people. A few hunters won’t be of any problem, trust me.”

                “I’m sure your pack is very strong, Eva. I know Talia since you arrived in town, and she is remarkable. One of the most powerful werewolves I’ve ever come across. And she is young. But if you do get in a fight with the Argents it will start a war. The Argents, under Gerard’s command, don’t play fair. They won’t think twice before calling backups. And if the pack amounts to thirty individuals, their backup amount to fifty or sixty people. Ten troops of hunters. With weapons. Without rules. They won’t spare anyone. Neither the humans, nor the kids. Not even the emissaries.” James pleaded, and Talia took his hand to squeeze it lightly. Eva looked at their entwined hands and then back to the room where people were carelessly laughing and talking. She nodded.

                “This is our land. We cannot be chased.” She finally said and James let his head down.

                “Mother,” Talia interrupted. “as your Beta I think it’s best for the pack to leave town. It’s not about territory. It’s about the lives of these people. Our pack. The ones we sworn to protect. You’re an alpha. You taught me that being an alpha was about doing the right thing. Even if it didn’t seem like the most brave thing to do. Think of them.” Talia pointed to the room. “Think of them if we leave, and think of them if we stay. I’m sure we can take the Argents and their backup. But can you just picture the number of casualties? How many lives will have to be lost so we can secure our land? How many limbs will we have to lose?”

                Eva sighed and her expression was incredibly tired. “We leave. But you do understand what entanglements that brings to you? And to your little hunter friend?”

                Talia nodded. “It means I’ll have to leave you.” She said to James.

                “Oh.” He said, letting her hand go.

                “A pack can’t exist without an alpha, and an alpha can’t exist without a pack. If I stay and something happens to my mother, the pack will scatter and we’ll be chased and killed.”

                “I understand.” James acknowledged.

                “Good.” Eva said and stood up from her chair. “We leave tonight. You see him out, and I’ll warn the others.”

                Talia straightened herself up and walked up to the living room and to the porch of the cottage as James, Laura and Derek followed. Once they were out, Talia held James and kissed him longingly. “I’m sorry.” She said, “I can’t leave my pack.”

                “It’s okay. I get it.” James murmured. “As I can’t leave my family. I guess it’s goodbye, then.”

                “I guess.” She said, and for once her voice wasn’t a mask of calmness. It was a miserable voice. It was the voice of someone’s whose heart’s been shattered. “Goodbye, James.”

                Derek’s father broke their embrace and got in the truck. Talia watched as he drove away. Once he was out of sight, she entered the cottage once more.

                “I don’t get it.” Derek protested, and turned to Laura who was sitting on the buttress of the porch. “Why are you showing me this? Mom and Dad aren’t even together. They are broken up.”

                “Patience, young grasshopper.” Laura simply said. “Can you even imagine how many moments amounted up to our existence? How many people have crossed paths and how many paths they could’ve taken but some fraction of moment, for some twist of fate they ended up doing what they did, leading up to us? And our subsequent choices, also. Can you imagine that?”

                “Well, in that case, you should show me how our grandparents met, and how their parents met, and how their grandparents met.”

                “Yeah, I should. But ain’t nobody got time for that, little brother. Let’s go, or we’ll lose the best part.” She said and the scenario shifted again.

                “We’re back to our house.” Derek noted. “How much time has passed?”

                “Just a few hours.” Laura said.

                Derek saw their father sitting on the futon by the window, watching outside while he drank a cup of something that Derek couldn’t make up what it was. He looked miserable and Derek had the urge to walk up to him and tell him that it didn’t matter because some time his mother would end up returning. They were each other’s fate and it was bound to happen. He just had to wait up.

                A knock on the door was heard and James made no movement at all. His father, that had been by the Christmas tree, talking to one of James’ uncles yelled out “I’ll get it.” as he walked towards the door.

                “James.” His voice called out from the antechamber.

                “Yes, dad?” James answered.

                “There’s someone here who wants to see you.” His father came back from the antechamber into the living room, and he made space so the other person behind him would accommodate by his side.

                “Talia!” James almost screamed. He ran up to her and embraced her tightly. “What is going on? Is everything okay?”

                “Yes. I just… I stayed.” She said and gave him a smile.

                “What? How? Didn’t you say that there isn’t a pack without an alpha and an alpha without a pack?”

                “My mom,” Talia said, “is the alpha of _her_ pack. I couldn’t follow up even if I wanted to.”

                “So you’re, you’re an Omega now?”

                “You know, there are other ways to have a pack. My mother just didn’t notice it at first that my pack consisted of only one person. Or well, you know,” Talia held James’ hand and placed it on her belly. “two. Merry Christmas.”

                James smiled so largely that for a second Derek feared his face would split into two. James kissed Talia and Talia’s baby bump that was invisible for the time being. “Marry me.”

                “Yes.” Talia knew it wasn’t a question, but she agreed either way.

                “A pack of three.” James repeated, “The Talia Hale pack.”

                Talia smiled, and her eyes glowed red. James’ father walked up to them and gave Talia a hug, welcoming her into the family.

                The scene began to fade away. “Oh, so that’s why you were their favorite.” Derek remarked.

                “No. I’m pretty sure it was because of my good looks and smarts.” Laura pointed out.

                “Oh, shut up.” Derek smiled and bumped her lightly on her shoulder.

                “You can shut me up, but the truth always comes out, Derek.” Laura smiled back.

                “So where are we going now?”

                “You’ll see.”

                The white fog went away to reveal hospital walls. They walked by the hospital’s hallways and Laura led Derek into a room. He saw his father and his mother, now older and more familiar to him, and a scrawny eight year old Laura by her father’s side. James had his hand resting on Laura’s shoulder, and they were all looking at the bed, where a sulky five year-old sat down, trying hard to repress his tears and holding his leg.

                It was Derek.

                There was a nice nurse with a huge baby bump by his bed, touching his leg and smiling at him. Telling him that he would be okay, that he had a broken leg and she was on her way to get him painkillers and the doctor would be here in just a few to cast his leg.

                “Are you sure his leg is broken?” Their father asked, and the nurse, Derek remembered from the other memory Laura showed him, was one of the girls on the woods with the teenager group. She was also Melissa McCall. It was very distinguishable now.

                “Well, yeah. It is. But don’t worry, we won’t keep you too long. I’m sure you guys have supper to go to.” She said politely.

                “Thanks.” James said with a smile.

                “Wow, they make you work even on Christmas?” Talia noted and Melissa smiled.

                “Oh, I asked them to let me work today. You know, this one” She pointed to her baby bump “isn’t due until next year and I have to make as many extras as I can to give it the best I can when it arrives.”

                “I see.” Talia nodded and Derek could pin point she was thinking the same thing he was. At this point, did Scott’s dad already left Melissa or were they still together? Of course his mother didn’t know anything about Melissa, but she wasn’t dumb and she must have been wondering if the child’s father left. “Is it a boy or a girl?”

                “A boy.” Melissa smiled kindly. “I’ll name him Scott. It means warrior. I hope he gets my eyes, and wit. His father isn’t very brilliant, you know. I have a friend on the other room who’s four months pregnant. She’s here to do an ultra. Her baby is also a boy. But you wouldn’t believe the kid’s name if I told you.” Melissa paused. “I’m not even sure I know how to pronounce it either.”

                Derek’s parents laughed. “I’m just gonna get another X-ray. I’ll be back soon.” Melissa said and got out of the room.

                A man in a police uniform knocked on the door and entered the room. “How’s the boy doing?” He asked. Again, another of the teenagers who were in the woods that other Christmas. It was definitely Sheriff Stilinski, though by then Derek wasn’t sure he was already the Sheriff.

                “Oh, he’s fine, deputy. Thanks for bringing them home.” Talia said politely and deputy Stilinski smiled.

                “Sleds and speed. Not the smartest combo.” He pointed at Laura, “You had a better luck than your brother over there. Even though in the speed you were going, I’m not even sure how you two didn’t end up in pieces. It seems like you’re both made of steel or something.”

                “Adamantium.” James said and the deputy laughed. Five year-old Derek and eight year-old Laura exchanged worried glances. Even back then they knew they should keep what they were a secret. Which made the idea of sledging in a highway a very, very bad decision. But it was Laura’s decision. Derek only followed.

                “Okay, folks. Happy holidays to you. No more sledging on highways,” He said and pointed to Laura and Derek. “I gotta go now. I have a very stressed, very pregnant wife craving Gingerbread cookies as soon as we get outta here.”

                “You’re such a baby!” Eight year-old Laura said to five year-old Derek. “You were going to heal MINUTES after we got home.”

                “You say that because you didn’t break much bones.” Five year-old Derek retorted.

                “First of all, smarty, is _many_ bones. And second of all, yes, I broke a rib, it hurts a lot more than a stupid leg booboo.” She humphed and crossed her arms tightly on her tiny chest.

                “Hey! That’s enough!” Their father interrupted. “You shouldn’t be sledging in highways and that is it! Laura, stop dragging your brother to your crazy ideas. His healing process is slower than yours, you know that. He’s still a kid. And Derek, if you think anything you or your sister is about to do is wrong, do not do it.”

                “I remember that.” Derek said. He and Laura were leaning on the room wall watching as their younger selves got lectured by their parents. Both Derek and Laura grinned at it.

                “Yeah, me too.” Laura said. “Mom grounded me so hard after that day. I won a Gameboy that Christmas and she didn’t let me play it for two weeks.”

                “Ha. That’s what you get for letting your five year-old brother almost die.”

                “Stop being a drama queen. You got a broken leg. You didn’t _almost_ die. I got a Pokémon game for my Gameboy, Derek. And mom didn’t let me play it. _That_ was tragic.”

                Melissa came into the room, strolling behind her an old looking machine, and put it over Derek’s supposedly broken leg. She operated the machine and took the X-rays.

                “Huh. This is funny.” She said once the X-ray results were on her hands.

                “What is?” Talia asked.

                “You know, I could swear that his leg was broken.” Melissa said with a disbelieving voice. “It looked bad. There was a huge bruise on it. Now it’s… Clear. Like it never happened. And his bone is just in place. No trauma at all.”

                “I guess he was just very lucky.” Talia suggested, looking at five year-old Derek with a serious expression.

                “I guess.” Melissa smiled and turned to Derek’s parents. “You know, this machine is an old piece of crap. Sometimes the X-rays are clear as crystal and sometimes they come out terrible. Your son is good to go. Sorry for keeping you too long. I’m sure it was just a stress trauma.”

                “It’s okay.” Talia said and James nodded. They rushed up out of the room. “Happy Christmas to you and Scott.” Talia turned to say and Melissa waved at them.

                They were coming out of the hospital the same time as the deputy and what Derek assumed was his wife. So that was Stiles’ mother, Derek thought to himself. The redheaded teenager, that now wasn’t a teenager anymore. Stiles had never shown him any pictures of her and, in all honesty, why would he? Derek understood Stiles in a degree he didn’t think it was possible. They were very different, but both of them knew how much it took from you to lose someone. And to talk about it can become something very difficult. It’s like you’re afraid that if you talk about them to anyone else you’re betraying their memory. Some things are just better kept to ourselves.

                Derek and Laura watched as eight year-old Laura accidentally bumped into Mrs. Stilinski and apologized, but failed to notice the ultrasound fell to the ground. But five-year old Derek did. Just like the older version of himself. Five year-old Derek bent down and picked the picture up, and gave it to her.

                “Thank you…” Mrs. Stilinski directed him a bright smile.

                “Derek.” Five year-old Derek answered innocently.

                “Thank you, Derek.” She paused and noticed the kid was looking at the ultrasound. “What do you think, huh? Is it crazy that I think he’s beautiful?” She lowered herself to his level and looked him in the eyes.

                “No. I think so, too.” Five year-old Derek answered.

                “I didn’t think so.” She smiled again, and five year-old Derek smiled in return. She gave him a little wink and little Derek walked back to where his parents were.

                “I didn’t remember that part.” Derek gasped.

                “It’s fine. We were kids. We had the attention span of a fish.” Laura assured him.

                “That was… Was that baby…”

                “Stiles? Yes. But I think you already know that.”

                “I do.” He did. He did with every fiber of his being. It was the first time Derek ever saw an ultrasound. Later, he would see others because they were a few months away from discovering their mother was pregnant with Cora. But Derek remembered that in that exact little moment he was mesmerized by the idea of a person, however that little, to inhabit that bump. He was mesmerized and he thought it was one of the most beautiful things he had ever witnessed. That indistinguishable figure that would become a person that would eventually be a kid, and then a teenager and then an adult. That figure that already was going to be born into so much love. That would later choose if he liked blue or pink better, or if he would cut his hair shorter or longer. If he would like Star Trek or Star Wars. If he would have moles or freckles. Unknowingly, Derek was already baffled by the very existence of Stiles. Even though he had no actual concept or knowledge to grasp it quite yet. Even though it would end up slipping his mind as he grew older. But in that moment, he wanted to know the outcome of that ultrasound.

                And you should be careful for what you wish for.

                Derek watched as Mrs. Stilinski walked away with her four-month baby bump. She was beautiful and Derek could see so much of her in Stiles. The kind gestures, the considerate words. And then the remembrance of her in the woods. Derek knew she could and would be as irreducible as Stiles. He also saw the slope of the nose and how it curved up on the tip making that little depression at the very extreme of it. The perspicacious spark on her honey brown eyes. In that shared moment between his younger self and Mrs. Stilinski, they both had the same impossible desire of just being there to witness the outcome of that little person. To see the outcome of that spark.

                Derek was lucky enough to be stick around. Mrs. Stilinski wasn’t. That might not be the fairest of arrangements. But life isn’t fair.

                “Are we done?” Derek asked, impatiently.

                “Yeah. We are.” Laura responded.

                “Where are we going now?”

                “You’ll see in a moment. It just takes a bit, you know. Consider it a Ghost of Past memories glitch.”

                Derek smirked.

                They were back at the Hale house again. This time, they landed on top of the staircase. Looking down, Derek had a good view of the living room. The house was bubbling with people. His family. Those were familiar faces.

                Their mother told them once that once her mother died, her other siblings pledged loyalty to her pack, and so did their partners and kids. That’s why the Talia Hale pack got so big. Because the ramifications of the old Hale pack saw there was no chance they could survive without Talia. She was the oldest daughter, she was the rightful alpha. So every single branch of the old Hale pack made their decision of coming back and hoping for her to take them in. It wasn’t much of a problem, in fact, Talia liked the big family reunions. Funny enough, Peter, the younger brother, was also the first to come back and pledge loyalty to Talia.

                In daily life, the inhabitants of the Hale house were Talia, James, Laura, Derek, Cora and Peter. They offered a home to every passing Hale. Talia’s other siblings. But the only constant presence that wasn’t part of the Hale-Whitaker family was Peter. They liked Peter. He was closer to their age. Laura and him used to hang out, which only made the outcome of Peter murdering Laura even more tragic.

                But right now, right now Derek was looking at all the people. There was a time when the Hale pack amounted to thirty people, now, there was only over ten people. Many of the old pack members pledged loyalty to other alphas, and many of them died.

                Anyway, that was the family Derek knew. Mischievous young Peter, uncle Anthony and his wife, aunt Emily and her kids, all of these people. All of these people who were inside of the house when the fire happened. But it wasn’t that day. No, that was a Christmas celebration. Nothing bad happened in that day. In that moment they were trapped forever in a perfect moment of bliss.

                While their relatives were fixing the supper, sixteen year-old Derek sat down with his father talking about a book he had just read, they talked excitedly and they smiled. Peter was drinking something Derek wasn’t entirely sure what it was, but he was very positive about it not being eggnog. Eighteen year-old Laura showed Cora some of the polaroids she had recently taken, and seven year-old Cora seemed to like it a lot. And then Laura handed the camera to Cora, who right away started taking pictures from everyone in the room. And their mother, if Derek remembered correctly was about to get out of the kitchen and tell them to gather around to take a picture for their next year Christmas card.

                There wasn’t going to be one.

                “This was…” Laura started.

                “Our last Christmas. Well, you know, all of us together.” Derek continued.

                “Yeah.” Laura said with grief in her voice. Derek mirrored that grief in his inside. Even with Paige’s passing, Derek still could bear it. He wasn’t the chirpiest of people, but he was happy, even after what happened. Because he knew he had his family. Not everything was always okay. They weren’t the perfect family, he knew that. James was a hunter and they were werewolves. Cora would wolf out every now and then and when that happened in public they had to tell people she was training for Halloween.

                “I, uh-“ Derek put his hand on his pocket and it produced a wallet, he opened it up and took a picture from inside of it. James, Talia and the younger version of Derek, Laura and Cora stared back at him with smiles on their faces. The picture was charred, but some of it was still visible. “I carry this around. Just in case.”

                “It would be a nice Christmas card.” Laura said, her ghostly hand tapping him on his shoulder. She didn’t know of the existence of that picture, since Derek found it when he got back to Beacon Hills after Laura’s deceasing.

                “I’m sorry, but in order for you to understand, I need to show you this.” She said and she really looked sorry, so Derek just prepared himself for whatever was about to come.

                The next thing Laura showed him was their house burning in flames. There was no sound, no smell, just the image, and Derek was smashed with the brutality of it. A few moments later, the scene shifted to something that he replayed ridiculous times in his mind. They were both at school. Derek got pulled from his class as well as Laura. They looked at one another, and at deputy Stilinski and they just _knew_ something was wrong. Derek knew the whole routine.

                A shift again and they were in the police station. Deputy Stilinski talked to them, they talked motives and about incidental fire. Derek wasn’t listening and neither was Laura. They were terrified. They were terrified because the scent wouldn’t leave their noses. It felt like burning down to ashes with them.

                Deputy Stilinski had been really gentle and kind talking to them, he offered them water and some food but they just behaved like two scared wolf cubs, which, to be honest, they kind of were. When Deputy Stilinski realized they were too in shock to say anything, he just asked the staff at the station to give them a couple of shock blankets and he was talking to the firemen.

                A pale kid appeared on Derek’s view. He was scrawny and had long shaggy hair, moles were everywhere around his face and Derek calculated he couldn’t be over seven years old. He wore a red hoodie and a Batman t-shirt and older Derek was so sure that was Stiles. His face had some baby fat, but it was definitely Stiles.

                He watched as Stiles tugged his dad’s uniform and he lowered himself to his son’s level to face him, he spoke a few words Derek could not make out, winked at Stiles with tenderness and pat the boy on his back. Stiles nodded at his father. Deputy Stilinski got up and continued his conversation with the firemen while Derek watched Stiles look around and spot his younger self. Stiles gave little steps and hesitatingly posted himself by teen Derek’s side. Stiles opened his mouth to say something to him, but snapped it shut.

                “What is he doing?” Derek asked, pointing at their past selves.

                “Shh!” Laura hissed.

                Stiles face turned into a mask of resolve and he put his tiny hand on sixteen year-old Derek’s shoulder. Younger Derek looked at him with a confused expression and lifted his eyebrows. That little hand had taken him out of shock momentarily. Something to break the nauseating smell of ashes and blood in his nostrils and the feeling of asphyxia in his lungs.

                “I’m sorry.” Stiles said, his big honey brown eyes seeming to take in Derek’s pain and reflect them.

                Derek did not remember that. His mouth opened up just slightly and he hoped Laura had missed that, she didn’t, but in a very welcome gesture of politeness, she didn’t say a word.

                “How do I not remember that?” Derek asked, perplexed.

                “I guess we were just too much in shock.” Laura suggested, shrugging.

                Derek thought about it. Yes, he was in shock. But that little moment had stopped his pain for a split second. He should be grateful about it and never forget about it. How could he let it slip like that? That Stiles was there. He remembered Deputy Stilinski and the new feel of withering but he did not remember the only kind gesture he got in so long. And the hand on his shoulder, that trait of Stiles that was very much present until, well, the present. Derek felt a lump in his throat and forced to swallow it down. Stiles was already solidary even before his mother passed away. Stiles was there for Derek even before he knew who he was.

                Derek cleared his throat. “Is this all?”

                Laura smirked a sappy smirk at him. “Yes.”

                She snapped her fingers and they were stopped in place but he got a glimpse of every Christmas they shared. They fled to New York and the Christmas was always the same. A little supper in a little table at some diner with turkey sandwiches. Derek always got the peppermint latte, Laura the gingerbread one. They sat down at some random bench on Central Park and opened up each other’s presents. Laura would give Derek some interesting books she found browsing around on the city while she was in her lunch hour from work, and Derek would pick up little random things: a plush wolf from FAO Schwarz, because they liked to go there, cheap jewelry (Laura didn’t care about jewelry at all, but some of Derek’s findings were actually pretty, like the paw necklace she used until her death), books, movies, movie posters, t-shirts. Just little things Derek saw some of Laura in it, so he decided to buy them. They both would joke about it and then they would spend some time slurping their coffee until it felt too cold to stay out. They returned to their loft and each would just do their separate thing, usually wrapped up in a blanket or a big sweater, because they didn’t realize the house was also extremely cold, and it wasn’t because of the weather.

                To be honest, Laura was much of a loner as Derek. She never made any ties, she never had any friends over (usually she went out with them and kept the party out of their apartment) and Derek saw how people drained her out, much like it happened to him. The conversation was superficial, just some questions about how was the day or the weather or if Derek would like to go to the movies or the other way around. The answers came in grunts and grumbles, they didn’t have the energy to form proper words. All this time Derek guessed they were just putting all of their energy in not going crazy with the terrifying amount of pain they felt. They were putting energy in trying to push past the sensation of clouded lungs and burned nostrils. But Derek knew Laura loved him and he loved her as well. She was pack. They lost all of their pack members, all of their limbs. The only thing left in Beacon Hills was a catatonic Peter. They were each other last limb and they held onto that, so even though they were both falling apart they had to pull themselves together for the sake of the other’s health. Laura was not a bad alpha, she was just an unprepared alpha. She was overprotective and he understood that. When in a normal pack, an alpha divides attention equally. But the fact was that they were no normal pack, so it was only understandable that Laura got defensive at the smallest sign of danger.

                With the coming of the years, and the incredibly sappy Christmas, Laura learned to control that urge as well as be more sociable. She was always the snarker and some of that naturally returned to her once closed and isolative self. However, Derek didn’t get any better and in that aspect Laura was a great big sister, not pushing him to tell her what happened or to force him into doing anything he didn’t want to because she was honestly the same as him, but she had to push past it for the sake of both of them. She had to take the bullet and let herself be the most fearful fearless person around him. All in all, she had to be an outstanding big sister. Which she did.

                He felt a rapture of gratitude for his sister and looked at her with his peripheral vision.

                “What are you doing?” She asked while checking out a t-shirt she had gotten from Derek in one of their Christmas.

                “I’m just… Thinking, I guess.” He said.

                “Be careful. Don’t strain any muscles there.” She grinned and placed her index finger on top of her lips in a pensive expression. “Now, where were we? Oh! Yeah.” She said and snapped her fingers again.

                The next time the scenery changed Derek could feel the warmth around him, and he knew they weren’t even close to Christmas time. The sun was up and high and the sky was an open shade of blue, one of those days that Derek liked. Just letting the sunbeam hit his cheekbones and send over waves of warmth and comfort.

                They were back in Beacon Hills. And there were two kids walking around the woods – no, not exactly woods, he thought, the Preserve.

                One had ridiculous long hair and wore a gray hoodie and jeans, and the other sported a buzz cut with a maroon jacket and a blue t-shirt with an aim on it. Derek knew what would happen in a few moments, he would come out of the woods and he would yell at Stiles and Scott that that was “private property”, he would toss Scott his inhaler and next the damage was done. They would make their personal goals to sniff up on every little detail of Derek’s life and Derek would be very unhelpful with Scott because he didn’t know better. After all, Scott could have been a Beta to the wolf that killed Laura (and in the end it kinda was like that).

                Nevertheless, seeing himself without the scruff and looking at Scott and Stiles’ terrified faces brought along some nostalgia to him. He didn’t have – or at least thought that he didn’t have – any clues to whoever Stiles was. And he didn’t want to admit, but he was just so alone and Scott and Stiles were a kind of company. He didn’t want to let them in, but didn’t want to let them go either.

                “That was very rude.” Laura said, disapprovingly.

                “I had a recently deceased sister and I had to go back to Beacon Hills. I was not in my best day.” He replied.

                “Yes, I can see that by the lack of beard in your face. I forget that you have a chin sometimes.”

                “Me too.” He smirked.

                Another shift and Derek saw another of him, walking shaky steps towards Stiles’ baby blue jeep. Fast forward, they were discussing on top of a table and Derek handed Stiles a saw to cut his arm out. Derek passes out instantly and Stiles is forced to punch him in the face so he regains conscience. Derek shifted in place uncomfortably.

                “What?” Laura asked.

                “He punched me in the face. In my face!” Derek answered, flabbergasted.

                “He saved your life!” Laura countered.

                “It was rude.” That’s all he says.

                “You are such a ungrateful little werewolf.”

                Another flash and this time Derek is slamming Stiles against the wall of the boy’s room. When Derek watches from outside it’s kind of funny and awkward and Laura snorts.

                “What now?”

                “Nothing. It’s just… You know. You’re not really into the touching but you surely do touch Stiles a lot.”

                “What is the point of this?” Derek massaged the bridge of his nose.

                “You tell me.”

                “I think this is bullshit. Why do you show me all these memories with Stiles when obviously we’re very annoyed at each other’s existence?”

                “Are you now?” Laura perked one perfectly plucked eyebrow that made Derek momentarily wonder if they plucked eyebrows in the afterlife.

                “He called me a sourwolf.” Derek admitted with his head hanging low, and Laura found it really funny but didn’t smile.

                “The nerve.”

                “Right? Anyway, Stiles doesn’t care about me and your efforts to show me otherwise are going down the drain.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest.

                “Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say. Stiles doesn’t care about you? Funny because he saved your ass a few times.” Laura countered.

                “I’m pretty sure I saved him way more.”

                “Don’t know about that. Let’s look at these.”

                A collage of scenes revolved around them. Derek pushing Stiles away from Peter’s way, Derek pushing Stiles out of the way to demand Isaac to stay back, Derek turning his back at the kanima to again push Stiles out of harm’s way, but this time it backfired and Derek ended up in the pool, Stiles jumping in the pool and pulling Derek up for air. Derek passing out after Jennifer attacked him and Stiles waking him up.

                Derek stood quiet for a moment just letting all of that sink in. He knew he had grown closer to every one of them back in Beacon Hills, but the little things that Stiles did, or that Stiles let it slip casually, his constant desire of getting into trouble and his constant presence. Derek didn’t have someone like Stiles in a long time – well, Stiles was unprecedent – but the general idea is that Derek never really had somebody who understood him quite like Stiles did. Even if they weren’t exactly friends. Derek liked Stiles and he conjectured Stiles could at least stand him, but they didn’t feel like friends at all. They took risks for each other and cared about each other, though.

                “Okay. Okay I get it. Doesn’t matter who saved whom more times, I get the general idea.”

                More images revolved around them, this time just little moments from their daily life. The way that Stiles always wind-up Derek and the way that Derek was just used to it, and kinda felt like something was off if Stiles didn’t tease him. Every moment that added up to where they were now, to where Derek was. Alone in an empty apartment. Missing Beacon Hills. Missing Stiles.

                “Can’t stop, won’t stop, brother.” Laura clicked her fingers but the images just continued to overlap each other, and then Derek felt his chest aching with longing when he saw himself at the flooded loft with Boyd in front of him, and Stiles holding his shoulder. It didn’t seem like much, especially because Derek was so distressed, but it felt like much. It felt like Stiles’ hand was holding Derek together in place, and if he removed it, Derek would fall apart. “Not sure how to stop.” Laura said.

                “It’s okay.” Derek nodded.

                “Sorry. I don’t get the gist of this Ghost of Christmas thing yet.” She said apologetically.

                Finally the images faded and they were back at Derek’s loft. Derek sat down on the sofa and recollected himself in silence while Laura settled down.

                “Well, this is odd.” She pointed out.

                “What is?” He asked.

                “It seems that my time is over. No more Past shit to you, grasshopper.” Laura sighed.

                “Do you have to go?” Derek asked and his eyebrows almost connected on his forehead.

                “Looks like it, yeah.”

                “Oh.” Derek looked down, “That sucks. I really, you know… I really missed you.” He admitted to the ground.

                Laura sat down beside him. “It’s okay, Derek. It’s not like I’m not with you all the time. You just don’t acknowledge it, but I am. Did you really think I would abandon you like that? Come on! You’ve known me for twenty-five freaking years.”

                They laughed, and Derek hugged the silk matter that constituted Laura. Laura was always the one who initiated hugs, even before the fire. She was just that kind of person. She hugged Derek and Cora a lot. To exhausting levels. But once that was gone, Derek missed it so much. He felt like this was the time to show it. Laura was taken aback for a moment, but instantly put her arms around him and patted him on the back.

                “You’re doing a great job, Derek. I know it’s hard. Trust me, _I_ know it. But you’re doing great. But it doesn’t mean you have to figure everything out on your own. Look for your friends. Okay?” She said while he stared at the opposite wall over her shoulder.

                “Okay.” He agreed.

                “Good. Promise me you’ll try your best not to be an ass butt. Do you promise?”

                “I do.” Derek agreed. “I promise.”

                “Promise me what?” Laura lifted her eyebrows in a playful expression.

                “That I will try my best to not be an ass butt.” He finally said.

                “I believe you.” Laura got up and smoothed her clothes, Derek wasn’t sure as to why, since she was a ghost and there was no actual wrinkles on her clothes, but he figured old habits die hard. “Oh! By the way, while I was looking through your memories – don’t make that face, it was necessary – I was very interested in the redhead girl.”

                “Lydia?” Derek asked with a grossed out face.

                “Yes. That’s her name, right? Anyway, any chance she might be interested in long, romantic walks at the limbo with me when she gets here?”

                “Don’t do that. Don’t be gross.”

                “Well, excuse me if some of us have to wait until afterlife to go on a date every once in a while. Check your privilege, Derek.” Laura grinned.

                Derek laughed as well because his sister was unbelievable and finally said “I’ll ask her. I’ll say you have nice features and you like the Spice Girls.”

                “Don’t forget to mention that I eat dweebcakes for breakfast.”

                “I won’t. And that’s one thing you two have in common, actually.”

                “Excellent. Now, for you, Happy Christmas, baby bro. You still have time to rock around the Christmas tree.”

                “Happy Christmas to you too… You know, if ghosts celebrate Christmas.” Derek completed, confused.

                “Of course we do. What do you think we do? Just creep people out with our appearances? We have our own stuff to deal with. Like for example, if we actually say Beetlejuice three times he’ll actually appear. And you know what, if I don’t stop babbling right now I’ll miss the screening of ‘How the Grinch Stole the Christmas’. The movie with Jim Carrey. You know that is my favorite.” Laura pointed out. “It’s nice to see you, Derek. Until next time.”

                Derek nodded and smiled. She was starting to fade away but there was still time for one more advice. “Make good choices!” Laura said as she vanished into thin air and nothing but Derek and his apartment were the only things left.

                He had a hard time believing any of this was actually happening, but he didn’t mind it. Seeing his mother and Laura after so long was kind of a Christmas present, from, well, whoever had sent it. He missed them so much every day and he was a bit sad that Cora wasn’t around to share from these hallucinations or appearances. Derek bet on the appearances though, because it was way too strange for his subconscious to mention Laura’s interest for Lydia. He avoided thinking that because he still hadn’t gone through the phase where Lydia and him could stand being in the same room. Even though they were making a lot of process. Still, it was weird to hallucinate about that, so appearances it is.

                Derek stood still for a moment, not sure what was going to happen next. If this was a version of a Christmas Carol, then he would have three visitors. And Laura was the first one. So should he wait or should he try to get back to sleep? He was deciding in getting back to sleep when he heard a noise coming from his room and decided to check it out.

                He wasn’t surprised to see one person sitting on top of his bed, raiding through his book shelf.

                “You have a lot of good stuff here, Derek. A lot of deep, existential stuff, too. You know who’d like that? Stiles.” Erica said without looking at him.

                He cleared his throat, and she turned to shoot a bright smile at him.

                “Aren’t you happy to see me?” She asked, with a pout.

                Derek shook his grumpy expression off and gave her a little smile. “You look good.”

                “I’d guess, since the last time you saw me I was in decomposition, I bet I’m looking great.” Erica said like it wasn’t a big deal, and Derek gulped down the lump in his throat.

                “I’m sorry we-“

                “Hey, hey. It’s all okay, Derek. You have nothing to be sorry for. Boyd and I are doing great.”

                Derek tried not to wince at the mention of Boyd. Of course he and Erica would be together. They always were. Derek saw that in the little time they were around, it was just a matter of time for them to be together, time that they didn’t have – until now, apparently.

                “So you’re my Ghost of Christmas Present?” Derek asked, changing subjects.

                “Yes, I am. I came here to show you what’s happening right now in Beacon Hills. I’m better than Skype. Really. I’m the real deal.”

                “I bet you are.”

                “Come on, let’s go. Enough with the books.” Erica threw the books away on his bed and got up from where she was sitting, ruffling the sheets and Derek grimaced at all the tidying up he would have to do later, especially reorganizing the books the way he liked. Similar to bookstores, Derek kept a bookshelf organized alphabetically by surnames of the authors. It comforted him to know his books were in standard organization mode. He did that since a very early age, and Cora used to mess his books all the time when she was a kid, just to mess with him. He would bet it was Laura’s idea to teach her to do that, if Laura hadn’t the same preoccupation of organizing like that herself. All of her cd stacks were organized alphabetically, her books, her files. They had that in common, at least.

                “Go where?”

                “Shh! That’s for me to know and for you to find out.”

                A fog started to sprout from the floor and soon enough Derek and Erica were engulfed in it. It started to fill the whole apartment and Derek couldn’t see the environment anymore. A minute passed, and the fog started to diminish, slowly and then quickly it started to return to the floor until there was only asphalt left, and a chilly air cutting Derek’s cheek.

                They weren’t in New York anymore, this was Beacon Hills.

                “What are we doing here?”

                “You’ll see. You know that house, don’t you?” Erica pointed at a small two-floor house with little windows and a garden that someone probably thought it was a good idea to have, but it had spirally gotten out of control. The only thing that was trimmed was the grass, but the flowers didn’t look so good.

                “It’s Scott’s house.” Derek said. “How did we get here so quickly? If I’d known this was the fastest way to travel I’d have send Cora with you instead of spending my mileage.”

                “A joke?! It’s a Christmas miracle! Careful not to sprain any muscles now.”

                “Ha ha.”

                “Come on, follow me.” Erica said and started walking towards the McCall house with Derek on her heels. In Beacon Hills it doesn’t snow, but it doesn’t mean it’s always warm, actually Derek was cold and he wistfully wanted to have worn a coat before the fog brought them here, but it was too late for that now. He just contented himself with rubbing both hands together to create abrasion.

                “Look.” Erica pointed indicating the house inside.

                Derek could see the whole pack, including Cora. They were all snuggling comforters in front of the TV, eating cookies and talking. Isaac was asleep and his head rested on a pillow, Scott talked quietly with Allison about something they were watching and she nodded in agreement or understanding. Lydia was sitting on the carpet, reading something about Advanced Quantum Physics, dressed up in a big wool sweater, and Cora was sitting by her side, eating popcorn and enjoying the movie. Mrs. McCall was home, and getting the dishes with cookie leftovers and Scott stood up promptly to help her.

                The only person that was not there was Stiles.

                “Where is-“ Derek begun.

                “He’s right there.” She pointed to the stairs where a red-hoodied Stiles descended. His hair was flattened on one side, what indicated he had been napping. And he had a weary expression in his face. When he got to the base of the stairs, Allison asked him something that just made him shake his head and give her a washed-out smile. He walked up to the table they had probably set up, where Sheriff Stilinski rested his head on his arms, sleeping. Stiles shook his shoulders lightly and his father woke up. Stiles said something and the Sheriff cleared his eyes and got up and into the kitchen. Stiles looked at his phone, checking for something, but something in his expression told Derek that he didn’t find what he was looking for.

Derek’s chest swelled with how much he cared for that boy, and that he never quite had seen Stiles this way. He looked so young, so vulnerable. A wave of protectiveness washed over Derek and all that he wanted to do right then was to hug Stiles as tightly as he could without snapping any bones in the boy’s body. But he couldn’t, because he wasn’t really there. It was only an illusion. Anyway, this was the only chance Derek got to see Stiles on Christmas. But he didn’t picture Stiles would look as washed-out as this at all.

It occurred to Derek that maybe Christmas was rough not only to him.

The Sheriff returned, dressed with his usual Sheriff jacket, but he had a civilian outfit under it. Grabbed his car keys and said something to Stiles, Stiles answered him and turned to wave goodbye to the wake part of the pack and Mrs. McCall. Stiles and the Sheriff walked out of the door and stopped nearby where Derek and Erica were, but neither seemed to notice them. Probably because they were invisible, Derek imagined.

Stiles wobbled himself to his jeep while his father got in the BHPD car, and they drove away.

“He looks sad.” Derek commented before he could repress it.

“That’s because he is.” Erica pointed out.

“Why?”

“Derek,” She started with a sincere pained look on her eyes. “I study – or studied – with Stiles and Scott for a long time. Do you have any idea of how Stiles was close to his mother?”

Derek shook his head no.

“Very close. He loved his mother, and I’m sure she loved him too. Anyway, they used to décor their house every year when Mrs. Stilinski was alive. It was one of the most beautiful houses Beacon Hills witnessed on Christmas. The ornaments weren’t expensive, you know, but there were lights all around the house, and it was magical. I loved to see it. I went there with my parents every Christmas when I was a kid. The Sheriff isn’t too big on holidays, but Mrs. Stilinski was. She was such a kind person. She volunteered in several places to serve soup or meals every Christmas. Giving toys to kids in need as well. Medications and that kind of supplies, too. I know that because my mom used to volunteer in the same places she did. Stiles grew up in that environment. He went along in every single one of these places, and he loved it. He was always there on Christmas time with Mrs. Stilinski. My mother even used to call me out, because sometimes I didn’t want to go. She used to say ‘That Stilinski boy is such a sweetheart. You have to see the joy he takes in helping his mom. Why aren’t you like that, Erica?’ Whatever. The point is: he really loved spending Christmas helping people out with Mrs. Stilinski.”

Derek felt a rapture of affection towards Stiles. He knew Stiles was very secretive about his mother, and believed Scott had known her. Granted, Stiles was a little shit most of times, but he was a good person. He was a stand up person. He was always there for Scott, he was a good friend and a loyal person. Even when Derek was acting like a jerk soon as he turned into an alpha, Stiles could’ve just let him drown in that pool, but no, Stiles saved his life. He had a sweetness about him that Derek saw he hid underneath that sarcastic attitude, but sometimes it overflowed. Derek never thought of it before, but they were mirrors of each other in many occasions. Both had lost precious people to them, and both were broken, but through Stiles cracks gentleness overflowed. And Derek admired that. He admired that he could learn from Stiles. He admired Stiles.

“Here. Let me show you something.” Erica said, and the scenario shifted to the exterior of the Stilinski house. Stiles and the Sheriff had arrived already, and the house was dark except for one little set of windows. Stiles’ room. Derek would have known, he’d been there.

Derek felt like the ground had elevated itself and both Derek and Erica reached up to the next level of the house in order to peep inside Stiles’ room. Instead of going to sleep, he was organizing what seemed to be boxes of supplies, writing on them with a sharpie. One was addressed to the nursing home, another to the homeless shelter, some were addressed strictly to families in places Derek never visited, but knew their background and knew it was from poor neighborhoods. They were all closed down and ready to be shipped off, but one. One that was going to Beacon Hills Memorial Hospital.

“Why is that one not closed?”

“Guess where was the place Stiles enjoyed to distribute supplies the best?”

Derek only nodded.

“Why are you showing me this, Erica?”

“This is how Stiles spends his Christmas.” Erica shrugged. “He’s surrounded of people, but he’s as alone as you.”

“He doesn’t want anyone butting in something he used to do with his mother. It’s… Comprehensible. Sometimes when someone we love dies, it feels like we’re betraying them if we start doing the things we used to do with them with other people.”

“Sometimes, all someone wants is to share stuff as well. Don’t you think? It’s like that guy said: happiness is only real when shared. Maybe all Stiles needs is someone who is willing to understand what this means to him. Someone who can honor that.”

Derek blinked slowly as Stiles put the final supplies in the boxes. “I hope he finds that person.”

“Will you stop?” Erica huffed impatient and Derek looked at her with raised eyebrows. “I know your family died, Derek. I know it sucked, and I know it hurts and that you never got over it. But it’s past that point already. You have isolated yourself from the world. Look at him.” Erica commanded and Derek still looked with a baffled expression at her, “Look at him!” She repeated and he did so. “Do you think you can screw this up? Do you wanna screw this up?” Derek shook his head. “Then you won’t! You can’t go wrong. This is Stiles. This guy walks around with the world on his shoulders, just like you do. Maybe if you got together the weight on both of your stupid asses shoulders would be more bearable.”

“Erica, what-“ Derek begun but she cut him off.

“Let me finish. You have to stop being emotionally constipated for people that are right for you. Forget the fire! Forget the monster you got laid with! This is Stiles. This is your friend Stiles. If there is one person who can get behind this angst – that’s him! You are the person he wants to share things with. You wanna share things with him.”

“You don’t even know that.”

“I may not be Lydia Martin levels of smart, but buying a baby blue toy jeep seems like a cry for help. You are so afraid of hurting Stiles that you don’t realize you’re doing so by ignoring him. I’m not asking you to jump his skinny bones. But you need to lighten up. I know you’re a good guy, Derek. I know you are reserved and that you take your time. But shutting him out you’re making two people miserable. So, really, tell me what you really wish.”

“What I really wish?” Derek asked, incredulously.

“Yes. Go on.”

“I wish…” Derek paused and looked at Stiles profile. The mole sprinkled skin of his face, his ridiculous long eyelashes, the slope of his nose with the stupid dent at the end, his golden brown eyes. “I wish I can be the person Stiles feels comfortable to share important things with. I wish to be that person.”

“There we go.” Erica smiled widely.

“But I can’t.”

“We were so close.” She shook her head.

“I can’t, Erica.” Derek said, seriously.

“It’s okay, Derek.” She tapped his shoulder. “It’s okay, man. Take your time. Don’t rush things. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“Back to your place.” She said, Derek would protest, not wanting to leave the vision of Stiles, but it was too late and they were already back to the apartment. Erica sighed an exhausted sigh. Derek stood in place, as if he was still watching Stiles pack supplies.

Emotionally constipated. That was what he was. Erica was right. He wanted to do all these things and wanted to share all these stuff with Stiles. Stuff that would make other people laugh and make fun of him, but not Stiles. Stiles would listen, he knew that. Stuff that would make him look bad and feel embarrassed, but he knew Stiles would comprehend. Derek had all this love to give, but he was too afraid. Not because his family died, not because the girl he loved died, but because he was too afraid to not be loved back. He chickened out. That’s what he did when he left Beacon Hills. He wasn’t going after some time to take a breather and reflect, he was running away from the terrifying realization that he had fallen in love again and that he was too afraid to do something about it. Because he knew that was a big deal, because Stiles was a big deal.

Every little moment Laura showed him, every moment his life – even before he was born – was entwined with Stiles’. When their parents met at the woods on the Preserve, when Laura bumped into Mrs. Stilinski and he saw Stiles for the first time, in that ultrasound. Maybe they had been bound together since day one of both of their lives. Maybe Stiles was his mate. Maybe Stiles was the real deal. And that every happy or tragic moment of both of their lives had led them up to here. To this moment where Derek saw in Stiles everything that Stiles was and Derek found flawless, but was too afraid to confront his feelings. Descending a spiral of loneliness that would imply not only in his unhappiness but perhaps in Stiles’.

He didn’t want to think that. He always imagined Stiles would do great without him. No one ever needed Derek, after all.

“Earth to Derek?” Erica chanted.

“I’m sorry, I was just-“

“No need to apologize, Derek. Anyway, my time’s out. Just, you know, think of everything we witnessed, okay?”

Derek nodded.

“Right. I have to go back now. Nice place you have here. Sorry about messing up your bookshelf.” Erica said. “Happy holidays, man.” She tapped Derek on his arm and he smiled at her.

“To you, too. And Boyd.” He said.

Erica grinned and her figure faded.

Derek was exhausted. He didn’t want to do this anymore. He imagined Stiles to be in a completely different – meaning happier – atmosphere for Christmas. The vision of him being alone drilled a hole in Derek’s chest. It didn’t suit Stiles being down. Perhaps he was always like this and Derek only failed to notice.

A glow sparkled in front of Derek, and a figure slightly began to form itself. Derek looked intrigued at it. When it finally became a person, Derek didn’t recognize who it was. He knew this was supposed to be his Ghost of Christmas Future. It was a woman in her mid-thirties, she was gorgeous. Her hair was rusty colored and lengthened to her shoulders, and she had delicate features. She had honey brown eyes and freckles on her porcelain white cheeks. She looked like she was in her mid-thirties to Derek. She looked familiar but Derek couldn’t exactly pin point why. He just knew she wasn’t someone he actively was acquainted to.

Derek’s apartment started to fade away, and they were thrown into a house Derek had never seen. Two people talked in front of him, a couple. Both seemed to be entering their sixties. The man was tanned and dark haired and he talked to what seemed to be his wife, a porcelain skinned brunette woman. Both had hair that was starting to grey out, and they looked upset.

“I feel sorry for him. He was a good man.” The man said, and there was something in the voice, something familiar. An ease to the voice that made Derek instantly think of Scott. When Derek came to face the man, he noticed the crooked jaw and realized he was right. And if that was Scott, then the woman must be Allison.

“Why do they even asked you to come here?” She asked in all sincerity.

“Cora said she couldn’t do it. And someone had to.”

“Did you tell-“

“Stiles? No. Not yet. I couldn’t bring myself to it.”

“It’s okay.” Allison rested a reassuring hand on Scott’s shoulder.

Derek wondered what they were talking about. What couldn’t Cora do? What Scott couldn’t tell to Stiles? Scott told everything to Stiles. That’s how the mechanics worked in the pack.

“You know how much he meant to Stiles. He will be devastated.” Scott said with a sad tone.

“I know. It’s too bad Stiles never told him.”

Derek was itching with curiosity and looked back at the Ghost. The Ghost just smiled at him, a polite smile, and the scene shifted to a graveyard. The Ghost pointed at the marble epitaph near a grave, and Derek got closer in order to read it.

In it, Derek read: “Derek Hale. 1988-2058. Beloved son and brother.”

Derek choked for a moment while he looked at his grave. He always knew that dying would come sooner or later, he bet sooner since it wasn’t rare to see a werewolf die young. But he never actually pictured he would be a grave in some graveyard. He never imagined all the gory details. He never imagined that he wouldn’t have time to get closure.

He stood there for a countless amount of time along with the Ghost, it was a silent presence, and also a very patient one. Derek had read the original version of A Christmas Carol and he knew that by definition, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come was mute. But he always imagined the Ghost of Future a haunting and terrifying presence. But the only thing terrifying to see here was his own grave.

A figure approached from a where he was standing. A man in his early sixties knelt in front of Derek’s grave, by Derek’s side. The greying hair almost threw Derek off, along with the wrinkles in the man’s face. But the moles and the eyes denounced that the man was a middle-aged Stiles Stilinski.

“Hey, Derek.” Stiles started, quietly, talking at the grave. “Long time no see. I actually um,” Stiles sniffed and Derek realized that he was crying. “I actually had to find out that you died from Scott. Do you know how much that sucked? Yeah, I don’t believe you do, since your stupid ass is dead. I always reached out for you, but you never got back to me. Not even… Not even when my dad died. That was a low blow actually.”

Derek’s jaw was agape. He didn’t got back to Stiles not even when the Sheriff died? That was kind of shitty – very shitty, and Derek couldn’t believe that he did do that. He ignored Stiles until he died. Wow, talk about being a coward.

“Since that day you got out of Beacon with Cora, you um, you never talked to me again. Why? That’s all I wanted to know. Just… Why. I thought we were friends or whatever. Apparently we weren’t. Anyway, I liked you. I like you. I – I love you, Derek. And now that you’re dead I just can’t tell you that I do. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you. I should’ve hunt you down, but all of this fear and also hurt pride. I’m sorry. I was an idiot.”

Derek was now kneeling by Stiles’ side, looking at his face while Stiles spoke. So Stiles loved him? Why? Derek was baffled by that, but he knew that if he was being honest he loved Stiles just as much. The forced familiarity turned into something not so forced that turned into something completely voluntary. And now Derek was miserable because he didn’t have Stiles around anymore, and apparently, he wouldn’t go back to Beacon Hills any time soon. Derek had to change that. Stiles was vital to him. He couldn’t imagine living so many years without speaking to Stiles again.

Derek wanted to hug Stiles visage, he wanted to embrace him and tell him that _he_ was sorry, that he was wrong and that he was a coward. But he would make things right. But the vision of older Stiles started to escape him while he tried to grasp it. Soon enough he was engulfed in a confusion of white walls and long halls.

Derek walked for a bit with the Ghost, quietly following him. The Ghost pointed to a door, and Derek gently pushed it to reveal what was inside.

It was Stiles.

He was lying in a hospital bed, with an IV on his right hand, and a wary face. He was older, Derek noticed, but it was still him. He had a buzz cut, similar to the one he used when he was a teenager. Only now his hair was completely white. Scott, the faithful squire was by his bed, sleeping. Stiles was sedated. Derek could scent it with his werewolf senses. He scented morphine, and the scent of death. Stiles was dying.

The Ghost pointed to the chart by the end of Stiles’ bed and Derek got hold of it. In it it was stated that Stiles had liver cancer and that he was in terminal stage. As a side note, the Doctor observed Stiles was suffering from an acute depression. Derek didn’t realize he was crying until one teardrop hit the medical chart he was holding. He put down the chart and looked at Stiles things. The books by his headboard, medicine and some pictures. One of which showed Scott and Stiles in the fall Scott was bit, another one showed Stiles doing a thumbs up with a degree, another one with Sheriff Stilinski, one showed Derek and Cora together, and none of Scott’s pack in the picture, so Derek guessed Cora must have given him that. But it was the picture Stiles was holding between his frail hands that caught Derek off guard.

It displayed a woman in her late twenties, with freckles and rusty hair, with defined cheekbones and honey-brown eyes. By her side, a man, also in his late twenties, sporting a satisfied smile and a face Derek knew very well – Sheriff Stilinski. Between them, hugging them in the height of their thighs, a tiny seven, perhaps eight year-old Stiles looked with sparkly honey brown eyes and a toothless grin at the camera. The batman shirt he wore was in its last days, but he seemed to sport it proudly.

Everything in that picture was perfect. So perfect that Derek wanted to jump inside of it and be transported to that just to see how it was for Stiles, having his mother and father around. Happy and healthy. And not being depressed and alone. Derek wanted to give that feel back to Stiles, but it was too late.

Mrs. Stilinski – Claudia’s face, however, was familiar. Not only from the memories Laura showed him, but from something else.

Derek looked back at the Ghost, and he saw everything he was missing to acknowledge. The sharp cheekbones, the rusty hair, and the honey brown eyes he loved dearly from the boy she had mothered.

“You are- You’re Claudia, aren’t you?” Derek stuttered.

The Ghost – Claudia, only smiled at him, and nodded infinitesimally.

“Why are you my Ghost of Christmas Future?”

Claudia only shrugged in a way she said without words that ‘she didn’t know.’

“I’m sorry about you. I’m sorry about your son, and not being there for him.” He choked, and held Stiles frail hands in his own, involving them in his ghostly touch. And Claudia put a reassuring hand on Derek’s shoulder, and suddenly he got a flash of many different things. He felt warmth spreading through his extremities, and lots of things painted in between his eyelids.

Stiles and Derek in front of a Christmas tree, Stiles and Derek holding a baby that seemed to be their kid, Stiles and Derek growing old together. All of those things, all that happiness. Derek wanted that. More than so, he wanted to share that happiness with Stiles. He wanted to show Stiles all the good things they would have together. And then he understood exactly what he had to do. In order to change Stiles’ destiny, he needed to change his own.

Derek was startled when he came into, and turned to face Claudia. “I know what I have to do.”

She nodded, and the image of the room, and Stiles’ hand in Derek’s started to disappear.

“I’m not the same as I was before.” Derek muttered to himself. And he knew it was true, but Derek hadn’t changed after tonight. He was changed the moment he met Stiles on that Preserve, or even before that, when he held Claudia’s ultrasound in his toddler hands. Maybe, after all, he was always set to meet Stiles one way or another. And Scott, and Isaac, and Erica, and Boyd, and all the people he met. He should understand that now they were his family, and that he should fight for it. He was not the same, because his situation wasn’t the same. He wasn’t a scared teenager that ran away from hunters anymore. He wasn’t Derek Hale, the target to get to Talia. He was Derek Hale, the beta werewolf, who belonged in many ways that didn’t only restrict to a pack.

Claudia Stilinski grinned at him, and he could see so much of her in her son. And Derek liked that. Derek liked that they looked so much alike, probably in ways that Derek even really realized.

Mrs. Stilinski started to disappear, and Derek knew no more ghosts would visit him. He had to go back to Beacon now, in that moment. He had to go to the airport.

As soon as Claudia vanished, Derek looked at his cell phone and found out it was only half past two. His visits hadn’t lasted too long. So Derek put his werewolf speed in organizing a suitcase throwing his clothes in it and some essential products for hygiene. He almost forgot the tiny toy jeep on the sideboard for the life of him, but he remembered it in the last minute. He put his coat on and stepped out into the cold December air in front of his building and almost wolfed out to get the attention of a cab driver. He told the driver to step on it and get him to La Guardia as fast as he could.

Getting there, Derek asked for tickets for the next flight to California and the cashier told him there was a plane departing at 3 a.m. and he should arrive at 8 a.m. if they didn’t have any setbacks.

Derek rushed to the gate where the plane was already on the bridge and almost ran into the plane, throwing the ticket on the steward’s face.

Derek rested on the armchair while the plane took flight. He started to think about everything that happened that night and sent his head spinning. But he was too tired, and too sleep deprived to do so, so instead of reflecting about this big life changing moment, Derek could only muster up enough presence of spirit to fall asleep.

He dreamt of his family, and familiar moles.

When Derek woke up again, he felt a significant pressure in his back, that indicated the plane was descending. His neck was stiff and he twitched his muscles in order to bring some movement to it. The pilot’s voice came on the speaker along with information about the current temperature, weather and time. The plane landed at 8:08 a.m.

Next, Derek rented a sedan and drove another two hours to Beacon Hills. It was a silent trip, and he enjoyed it.

Finally, he arrived at his destiny: The McCall house. Derek knocked and waited until someone peeped out from the door.

“Derek!” Scott belted, happily. “You’re here, man! I didn’t think you were coming.”

“Neither did I.” Derek smiled, and heads agglomerated on the porch to see that it was true; a Christmas miracle. Derek Hale really came back for Christmas. Cora was the first to step out and hug Derek. They stood there on the porch too long, awkwardly looking at him. But among the familiar faces, there wasn’t one speckled with moles.

“Stiles isn’t here?” Derek asked.

“No, man. Sorry. He has a thing he does every Christmas. He’ll be here later, though.” Scott said apologetically.

“I.. Um, I gotta do something.” Derek said and untangled himself from Cora. “I’ll be back later.” He promised.

He entered the sedan and drove to Beacon Hills Memorial, he parked the rented car and stepped into the hospital. Derek talked to the lady in the front desk and she told him the volunteers were at the cafeteria.

He paced quickly to said place and there he found the volunteers – well, a group of six people, and one boy who was wearing a red hoodie over a plaid shirt. Derek’s chest weighted with relief and he walked over to Stiles, who was busy with several plates and pouring soup in them.

“Need some help?” Derek asked.

Stiles had a knee-jerk reaction and almost dropped the soups, but Derek held the other end of the plates, brushing his fingers slightly over Stiles’.

“D-Derek? I thought… I thought you weren’t coming.” Stiles murmured with wide-eyes.

“I wasn’t. But now I’m here. Turns out I’m an idiot.”

“Yeah. You really are.” Stiles nodded. “Why have you been ignoring me?”

Derek put down the plates and looked at Stiles profile. He refused to look at him. “Because I’m a coward, Stiles. I – I’m sorry. I really am.”

Stiles finally looked at him and smirked. “Yeah, okay. Fair enough. I forgive you. How did you know I’d be here anyway?”

“I had a hunch.” Derek grinned.

“It was a good one. I used to do this with my mother every Christmas. I think she’d kinda want me to go on, so I did.”

Derek only stood there listening to Stiles. This felt right. It felt like comfortable. Both of them working in silence, serving soup to people.

“Would you go outside with me for a bit?” Derek asked after a moment.

“Yeah,” Stiles gazed at him, “yeah. Sure.”

Derek waited while Stiles called a man to take over the distribution and they went outside. It was chilly, and Derek put his hands in his coat’s pockets. He thought of a way to start all he had to say, but Stiles beat him to it.

“So, are you coming back or is this a holiday thing?”

“It depends.” Derek started. “If I stay, can I come do this with you every Christmas from now on?”

Stiles stood quiet for too long, and Derek almost could hear him thinking. He knew just how much that meant to Stiles. After many minutes went by, Stiles spoke again.

“Yes. But only if you stick around.” He said quietly.

“I will.” Derek side-gazed Stiles. “I promise.”

He felt Stiles breathing out from relief, the corners of his mouth curving up.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Derek said and searched his pockets until he found a small package in one of them. “This is for you. It made me think of you.”

Stiles’ long fingers ghosted over his quickly and he took the bundle. He unwrapped it and in the palm of his hand there was a tiny blue toy jeep. Stiles smiled widely.

“It’s Roscoe.”

“I didn’t know your jeep had a name.”

“It’s not a jeep. It’s my baby.” Stiles blurted. “Thanks, Derek. It means a lot. I think it’s the favorite gift I think I’ve gotten.” Stiles grimaced. “But I didn’t get anything for you.”

Derek brushed it off with a hand gesture. “Don’t worry. You already have.”

Stiles looked at him and Derek couldn’t take it any longer. Derek looked up and the thing he needed was there. A mistletoe, right above them.

Derek cleared his throat and pointed up.

“You know what the tradition says, right?” Derek pointed out.

“Really? Mistletoe? You’re a werewolf.”

“Oh, shut up.” Derek pulled Stiles towards him and his lips connected. Right then, Derek could see everything that Claudia’s spirit painted in front of him. He knew it was going to happen, he only had to wait and be loyal. They kissed gloriously for a moment, and Derek didn’t want to disconnect his lips, but Stiles stopped to breathe.

“I didn’t think I could enjoy mistletoe after what happened last spring.” Stiles whispered and Derek laughed. A clear sound, a happy sound.

“Neither did I.”

“We should go back inside. We have a lot to do.”

“Yeah. Okay.” Derek held Stiles’ hand in his. “Let’s go.”

“Forget what I said about the jeep. That was the best Christmas gift I’ve gotten.” Stiles mumbled.

“Wait ‘til next year.” Derek said as they shouldered their way back in. And Stiles couldn’t wait for next year and all the years yet to come.

“What caused this Christmas miracle, if I may ask?”

“You would never believe if I told you.” Derek commented. He stopped and put a hand on Stiles’ arm. “Stiles, merry Christmas.”

“Merry Werewolfy Christmas, you dweeb.” They kissed again and this time they went back to the cafeteria to serve people again.

Derek was never the season’s person, but he could get used to it. Christmas wasn’t that bad, after all. Everything was good now. And Derek felt like he was finally getting things right.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I hope you enjoyed the reading and that you are full of fuzzy feels now. Anyway, this fic is a project that started because I wanted to do something cute and christmassy for my followers so I thought this would be a good gift. I hope your holidays are being very merry and that you are having a great time. Also, this is a fic I dedicate to my best friend - Priscila, who's been my reader and my source of support and helps me tons in writing about werewolves. Priscila, you are the best and you deserved a special gift, so here it is: your favorite pairing.
> 
> Merry Christmas, guys!
> 
> (And as always, feel free to drop me a message on tumblr. I'm aerosmut.tumblr.com)


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